


Like Rust Upon Iron

by Holli (Wertiyurae)



Category: Slayers (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-10
Updated: 2006-09-10
Packaged: 2018-11-20 22:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11344134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wertiyurae/pseuds/Holli
Summary: During the last episode of NEXT, Lina sits outside of the inn and ponders an uncharacteristic emotion. Sometimes, the worst thing you can do is nothing at all.





	Like Rust Upon Iron

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Slayers story. I got the idea for this one after watching SlayersNEXT and it wouldn’t leave me be. It takes place in the middle of the episode, after Lina and Gourry return but before Martina and Zangulus return. I've fixed a few typos from the version posted at ff.net, but it's largely unchanged.

_“Guilt upon the conscience, like rust upon iron, both defiles and consumes it, gnawing and creeping into it, as that does which at last eats out the very heart and substance of the metal.“ \- Bishop Robert South_

She couldn’t look any of them in the eye.

That was why she was sitting outside the inn, sitting out in the cold darkness with no one for company beyond the silent stars. All right, so it wasn’t really that cold, the darkness was staved off by a lantern hanging beside the back door of the inn, and she’d come out here to be alone but it did sound more dramatic the other way. Then again, it wasn’t as though her life needed any more drama added to it—she’d had enough for seven lifetimes now!—and she’d just about had her fill of the stuff anyway.

The last thing she needed to be doing was creating any more drama for herself. Unfortunately, the reason she was out here in the first place wasn’t just a case of self-made dramatics: she couldn’t look any of them in the eye. It wasn’t shame which kept her gaze from her friends’ faces but guilt. And fear. She was afraid of what she might, no, would definitely see there if she could bring herself to look.

The accusations in their eyes. That they knew they’d been betrayed. After all, they had to know as well as she did that she hadn’t saved them. Sure, they were alive and she could argue that she’d had a hand in that outcome—and it would be true—but that didn’t change the fact that their lives being saved had been almost incidental. No, she was going to be brutally honest here: their lives being saved had been completely incidental.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t cared about what had happened to them, and she was so very thankful that they’d come out of all this intact, but, when it came right down to it, she hadn’t done anything to save them. She was only glad, more glad than they could ever know, that she hadn’t had to watch them all die twice. And she would have done just that had Hellmaster started the real killing with someone other than Gourry.

After all, she hadn’t done anything to save them the first time they’d died, had she? Then, she hadn’t known that they weren’t truly dead—how could she have known?—and, even though she’d felt her heart shatter like Hellmaster’s marbles as he crushed them, she still hadn’t done more than scream their names when they fell.

The fact of the matter had been, despite her pain and her grief at losing her friends (as well as Zangulus and Martina), the world had been more important. She couldn’t risk the chance that the world could be destroyed just so she might – _might!_ —be able to save five lives. There were thousands, millions who could have died if she gave in. More. And, knowing what the Giga Slave could do and who its master was—

It had been unthinkable.

But, when Hellmaster had started cracking the crystal around Gourry, something in her had snapped. She didn’t know why—at least, she wasn’t prepared to be quite _that_ honest just now—but she couldn’t bear the thought that Gourry would die. He needed to live: without him, nothing mattered.

When she’d finally cast her spell, only one thing _had_ mattered: saving Gourry. As long as she managed to save him, she hadn’t cared what else might happen. The world could be sucked into nothingness and her along with it as long as there was a chance—a chance!—that Gourry might survive.

She couldn’t really remember much of anything that had happened after she’d lost control of the spell, although she had the feeling that something important had happened. Something very important that she should know. Something that could change everything.

But she couldn’t remember whatever it was. As far as she was concerned, the time line went a bit like this: Lost control of the Giga Slave; Something; Opening her eyes and finding herself in a very tight embrace. She felt her cheeks go a bit red at the memory. Even though she had been certain to reestablish the status quo, she couldn’t deny that, for the few seconds before she’d realized how inappropriate the whole thing was, it had been wonderful. Him and her alive. Together.

And how glad, how relieved, had she been when she’d seen that her friends were alive too? Martina and Zangulus had not been among them, but, as terrible as their deaths had been at the hands of Hellmaster—as cruel and as senseless—, she hadn’t been too fond of either of them, and their absence didn’t do much to dim her happiness over the fact that Amelia, Sylphiel and Zel were still alive. The last time she’d seen them, they’d been encased in crystal. The last time she’d seen them move and heard them speak was when she’d watched them die.

Had she been the crying sort, she would have been in tears. However, she most definitely wasn’t the crying sort and that was something she prided herself on. Leave the crying to the damsels who can’t handle the world as it is! Leave the crying to those who could afford to cry.

Of course, had she cried then, they would have been happy tears, but her point was still valid.

The guilt hadn’t come until a bit later, after the “I can’t believe we got out of that alive!“ euphoria had worn off. Generally, she wasn’t one to feel too guilty about anything. Then again, she was in the habit of killing bandits so there wasn’t really much that she had to feel guilty about. And sure, maybe she’d leveled her share of villages from time to time but that had always been while she’d been preforming a service. Honestly, some people just didn’t understand—if you want a dragon slain, you need to be prepared to break more than a few eggs!

But there was no doubt in her mind that it was guilt she was feeling and the reason for it wasn’t hard to understand. She’d watched them die and had done nothing. She’d let them die. Because she hadn’t been able to justify risking the world for their sakes. Which would be a solid, guilt free line of reasoning if it weren’t for the fact that, when Gourry’s turn came, she’d been more than willing to let the world burn to save _him_.

“Are you done moping, Lina?”

She jerked around at the unexpected voice to see Zelgadiss leaning against the closed back door of the inn. “Zel?”

His arms were crossed and his expression was half hidden in shadow. “Well? Are you? Because even Gourry’s starting to worry, and if he’s worried then you know it’s a bad sign,” he stated, sounding annoyed.

Lina turned away from him. Zel was right about Gourry: when _he_ started to worry about something, it usually was a bad sign. However, she’d come out here to be alone, and she did not appreciate being accused of moping when she wasn’t doing anything of the sort. “I’m not moping; I’m thinking.”

“Really? Because, from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”

Anger flared up in her. Here she was, worrying herself sick about her part in her friends’ deaths, about _his_ death, and he was accusing her of having a pity party? Like he was one to talk about pity parties! “You’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you, Zel?” she snapped nastily. It was a low blow and she would have regretted it if not for the fact that he’d asked for it, being such a jerk.

A stunned pause. “That was low, Lina.”

“I know.” She ran a hand through her hair, her anger subsiding as quickly as it had appeared. Unless she wanted to say something else she’d regret later, she had to get him to leave. The sooner the better. “Look, I’m not really in the mood to talk, okay?” When there was no answer, she allowed herself a sigh. “Just leave me alone.”

Since she didn’t hear a door being opened, she knew he was just standing there. Should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. After a long moment of silence, he spoke, sounding gruff. “So, if you’re not feeling sorry for yourself, why _are_ you out here?”

Gods, what did a girl have to do to get some peace and quiet around here! If Zelgadiss hadn’t been made of stone, she might have tried more physical means to get him out of her hair (although, why he was even in her hair to begin with would have been an interesting question on its own had she been in the mood to think about it) rather than just verbal commands. However, as he was made of stone, and if she did try to hit him, she’d only end up hurting herself, she resigned herself to dealing with him until he decided to leave on his own. “I told you already. I’m thinking.”

“About what?”

It was tempting to tell him to jump in a lake, but she decided not to. There were two reasons for this: 1) it was noteworthy that Zel was even having this conversation with her in the first place—he wasn’t one to ask probing personal questions—and 2) it was the least she could do after letting him die. “Guilt.”

A startled chuckle came from her companion. “Guilt? You? Since when do _you_ feel guilt?”

It was a measure of how drained she felt about the whole thing that she didn’t rise to the bait and defend her character. “Since today.”

Another pause. “. . . What do you have to feel guilty about?” If she didn’t known better, she could have sworn that he actually sounded confused. But that was ridiculous. He should know what this was about. He had to know. She wasn’t sure what he was doing, playing dumb, but he had to be pulling her leg.

“Are you just going to ignore me?”

Despite herself, she turned back to see if he was being serious. It certainly looked like he was. “What do you mean ‘What do I have to feel guilty about’!” Her hands formed light fists and she willed herself to remain calm. “You ought to know.”

He stepped away from the door and uncrossed his arms. “Maybe I ought to but I don’t, so why not save us both some time and just explain it to me?”

Her fingernails bit into her palms. “Why are you doing this, Zel?” At his taken aback expression, she grit her teeth. “Don’t you think I feel bad enough?”

His mouth was working, and he was no doubt coming up with some new lie to say, but she was tired of playing this game. She didn’t know why he was pretending not to know what she knew he knew, and she found that she no longer cared. If the jerk wanted to hear it from her mouth, well, that was a-okay with her!

“Fine! You want to know what I’m feeling guilty about? I’m feeling guilty because I let you all die! I didn’t raise a finger to help any of you! Is _that_ what you wanted to hear? That I didn’t do anything to save you? That I didn’t—” she broke off as she realized that she was standing, jabbing her finger at Zelgadiss, and speaking much louder than was probably wise.

Falling to her knees, she covered her face with her hands. “I saved Gourry, but I didn’t save you. Any of you.”

There was another long pause. “I’ll admit that dying wasn’t much fun,” Zel began, sounding as though he was trying to make a joke before his tone became more somber, “and having Amelia die in my arms was one of the worst things that has ever happened to me, but . . . it wasn’t your fault, Lina.”

She lowered her hands and set them down onto her thighs. “But I didn’t do anything to stop it.” She kept her eyes to the ground, not wanting to look at his face. To see the lie there despite what he’d said. “I . . .” What else was there to say? “I’m sorry.”

A hand settled lightly, awkwardly, onto her shoulder. “You shouldn’t say that.”

She looked up, startled. “Huh?”

He was smiling a wry smile. “More to the point, you shouldn’t be feeling guilty at all.”

Frowning, she demanded that he explain what he meant by that.

He pulled his hand away and took a seat next to her. His face was turned upwards, and he seemed to be looking at the stars. When he didn’t speak, her frown deepened and she looked up as well. What was he looking at so intently?

“Did I ask you to cast the Giga Slave?”

Thrown by the non-sequitur and the sudden break in the silence, it took her a moment to find an answer. “Well, no.”

“How about Sylphiel?”

What was he trying to get at now? “No.”

“Zangulus? Martina? Did they ask you?”

She shook her head.

“Amelia, she never had the chance to ask, but I can tell you right now that she wouldn’t have either.” Finally, he turned his attention away from the sky and looked down at her, a strange, almost sad expression on his face. “Do you know why?”

“No, but I suppose that you’ll get around to telling me sooner or later,” she said, beginning to feel annoyed. She never liked being treated like she was stupid, and if anyone was being stupid here, it was Zelgadiss with his stupid guessing games.

His slight smile told her that he was enjoying her irritation. Yes, if anyone was being stupid, it was him. And, once he was finished with whatever he was saying, she was going to give him a fireball he’d never forget. Stone or not, a fireball to the face would be enough to remove that little smirk!

It proved to be unnecessary as the smirk faded of its own accord. “It’s a lot to ask from someone,” he said softly, “to risk the world for your sake, even if you’re friends.” He looked away again, something indescribable flashing in his eyes. “A true friend wouldn’t ask you to make that choice.”

She didn’t know what to say so she said nothing. It was probably for the best because she didn’t think she could speak even if she _did_ have something to say. Part of it was just plain shock that Zel, the heartless, mystical swordsman himself, was talking like this so seriously, like he meant it. He’d actually claimed friendship. That was a big step for Zel, and she knew that she’d appreciate it once she got over her shock.

And, strange as it was hearing all this from him, he was actually making some sense. For the first time since it had started, she felt some of her guilt slip away. It wasn’t completely gone and maybe it would never be, but she did feel a little better now. Maybe she wouldn’t fireball him after all.

“As for Gourry,” he continued after a moment, standing and brushing off his pants as he did so, “I would think that it’d be a great responsibility to know that you’re worth the world to someone.”

She hadn’t thought about it that way. To be worth the world to someone. Would she want to have someone be willing to trade the world for her sake? Would she want to be responsible for that? Then she remembered that they were talking about the Jellyfish. “If he even remembers,” she quipped with a small but genuine smile.

Zel shook his head but his tone was light. “I would hope that even Gourry wouldn’t forget something _this_ important.”

Lina stood, feeling most of the guilt slough off her narrow but perfectly proportionate shoulders like a grubby overcoat. She felt almost like herself again. And it was wonderful. “You haven’t traveled with him as long as I have.” Putting her hands on her hips, she sighed in mock sadness. “That yogurt brain thought that Copy Rezzo looked _vaguely_ familiar—I have no trouble believing that he could forget about all _this_ , too.”

That earned another half smile from Zelgadiss. Then he nodded towards the door. “Are you going to come in? They won’t be happy with me if I come back alone.”

Bringing her gaze up to the stars, she pretended to consider it. While it was tempting to leave him to his fate for being such a jerk earlier, she decided to be merciful. She supposed she owed him something for helping her out of that funk. Besides, she thought she could do with something to eat. And maybe some company. She brought her gaze back down and grinned. “All right, I surrender. Lead the way.”

Once they were back inside, he led her to the table she’d left earlier. Seeing her friends there, their eyes filled with relief that she was back among them, she felt grateful that she wasn’t the crying sort. It would completely ruin her image if she broke down in tears.

Even if they would have been happy ones.

The End


End file.
